Saturday, February 5, 2022 A fun but monochrome day to bird

Seward, Alaska

Sunrise 9:03 am, sunset 5:22 pm for a total day length of 8 hours and 19 minutes. Tomorrow will be 5 minutes and 9 seconds longer.

 

Monochrome day today; the flat pewter sky merged with the calm silver bay. Temperatures continued mild with a low of 29 to a high of 38; the bay hovers around 43º. A brisk south wind lost interest early and gave up entirely but the north wind picked up in the evening. Snow and snow showers forecast for next week.

 

On Wednesday, Robin C reported 2 male and one female Green-winged Teal at Clear Creek and an AMERICAN TREE SPARROW at Ava’s off Salmon Creek Road. He has consistently located the TOWNSEND’S SOLITAIRE in town, generally along Second Avenue and often near the historic Episcopalian Church at Second and Adams. 

 

Also on Wednesday, David J reported three species of Loon at the harbor entrance: 2 COMMON, 1 YELLOW-BILLED, and a very unusual (for Seward) RED-THROATED LOON.

 

I searched the Uplands and harbor since then but only refound the juvenile Common Loon, several red-eyed HORNED GREBES, sleek PELAGIC CORMORANTS, GOLDENEYES, and even a pair of GREATER SCAUP, all busy fishing. 

 

In addition, today, two male BARROW’S and COMMON GOLDENEYES worked along the breakwater rocks, nibbling on mussels and other treats exposed at low tide. A BELTED KINGFISHER flashed past; a SONG SPARROW called from the rocks.

 

While at the harbor, I enjoyed a serene HARBOR SEAL lounging at the surface like an inflatable toy, its nostril flared wide open to breathe, and then slit shut to dive. Such big, liquid brown eyes and long whiskers (vibrissae)! Silently, a second seal surfaced, then both submerged simultaneously. Sssss.

 

I spotted a Sea Otter stretched out, sleeping on the swim platform at the stern of a boat, snoring away, not a care in the world. More industrious were two River Otters, resting on the rocks, feasting on fresh fish. One Otter struggled to subdue its uncooperative fish and finally chomped it into smaller chunks. 

 

I headed to the tidelands to search for the Snow Buntings and two McKay’s Buntings reported earlier this week. Instead I found 50 ROCK SANDPIPERS chittering gaily and snarfing up invisible (to me) invertebrates and clams. Flashes of yellow legs and yellow-orange bill bases brightened the monochrome palette. One drab-brown DUNLIN with a long droopy bill mingled with them, enjoying their company and protection.

 

A male BELTED KINGFISHER waited patiently for dinner by a creek.

 

Tasha reported a pair of GREEN-WINGED TEAL at the tidelands and a NORTHERN SHRIKE. The bird scene is dynamic!

 

Late in the afternoon over at Afognak Beach, Tasha discovered a large flock of 80+ SNOW BUNTINGS and at least two MCKAY’S BUNTINGS in the beach rye grass at the high tide line. This is the highest number of Buntings this year, and so exciting to have McKay's here.

 

Once again, the birds and other wildlife brightened an otherwise dim winter day.

 

Happy Birding!

Carol Griswold

Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter





















Monday, January 31, 2022 Common Redpolls

Seward, Alaska

Sunny, 15-27º, north wind.

Just by chance, I happened to be standing quietly near a nice cluster of catkin-laden alders at Lowell Point State Recreation Site. Not a bird was heard, none in sight. I waited. Then suddenly, a flock of about 20 COMMON REDPOLLS swarmed to an alder farther away and began extracting the tiny seeds from the woody, cone-like catkins. I waited.

 

Sure enough, bit by bit, they moved closer and closer. Finally, the small finches were right by me, giving me wonderful views of their red caps and raspberry-pink fronts. A rump view looked like Nature took a small brush and carefully added rosy marks to the light brown canvas above the tail.

 

The Redpolls bounced like bumblebees from one catkin to the next, making quick work of the snacks. Grasping the catkins with strong, black toes, they nonchalantly hung upside down, sideways, and perched on top. Their yellow bills deftly extracted the tiny nutlets, peeled away the papery wings, and gobbled them down.

 

Upon an invisible signal, they all surged to the next alder, fleeced its calories, and then swirled away, leaving me with the quiet once again. I waited. Hearing and seeing none, I reluctantly left the park and the sun, knowing a week of mixed rain/snow/sleet was forecast. 

 

Happy Birding!

Carol Griswold

Seward Sporadic Bird Report Reporter